


boundless by time

by fools_mp3



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Modern Royalty, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:42:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26443627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fools_mp3/pseuds/fools_mp3
Summary: “Sometimes,” Donghyuck says against the quiet fumbling of his fingers along the piano keys. “Sometimes, forever doesn’t seem far too long anymore.”“No?” Jeno pauses to turn to look at Donghyuck.Donghyuck is staring down at the keys with an unreadable expression on his face. He gives a slow shrug.“Sometimes, I fear that it might even be too short,” Donghyuck confesses.(Or,There is now, there is tomorrow, and there is forever. Jeno and Donghyuck learn to navigate through it.)
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Lee Jeno
Comments: 18
Kudos: 228
Collections: NOHYUCK FEST: 정답!





	boundless by time

**Author's Note:**

> #JD020
> 
> my dearest prompter, i am so sorry this story has taken me away from your original prompt. i hope you enjoy this donghyuck and this jeno anyway. ♡

Jeno is fidgeting. He has to physically make his eyes zone into the toes of his shoes to get them to stop tapping, _tap, tap, tap, tap_ against the marble floor, and he clutches at his trousers with the tips of his fingers to get himself to stop tapping along the sides of himself. He glances in front of him and Donghyuck is still avoiding his eyes, trained firmly at the officiant to the left of Jeno.

_We are gathered here today to join Lee Jeno and Lee Donghyuck in the union of marriage…_

He chances another look at Donghyuck, and this time, Donghyuck is looking him in the eyes. Not unkind, but there’s something in the way that Donghyuck looks at him that Jeno can’t help but let his face twist in surprise, if only for a second, before he settles back into a blank look in return.

_This contract is not to be entered into lightly, but thoughtfully and seriously, and with a deep realisation of its obligations and responsibilities…_

Jeno almost _scoffs_. Almost, because he glances at his mom sitting in the first row who’s looking at him with a hard look on her face and he promptly remembers that the whole world is watching.

His eyes flit back towards Donghyuck, and this time, Jeno knows.

Two months may not be long enough to know someone before getting married, but it is long enough to know the mannerisms in which someone is upset.

Donghyuck’s eyes, though firm, seem to shake if only slightly, while he stares at Jeno in the midst of the officiant speaking. His hands are clasped in front of him, but his pinky is twisted and pressing hard against his other hands knuckles. The tips of his ears are red, and he can’t stop licking at his lips.

Donghyuck’s uncomfortable, and Jeno kind of wants to reach out and hold his hand, untangle them from themselves. Maybe rub his thumb against Donghyuck’s knuckles so he’ll feel less uncomfortable. He doesn’t.

Instead,

_Lee Jeno, do you take Lee Donghyuck to be your husband?_

The question seems to take Donghyuck by surprise— he flits his eyes from Jeno’s, to the officiant’s, back to Jeno, which makes Jeno almost laugh.

“I do,” Jeno says, and this time he watches Donghyuck’s eyes widen slightly.

He can’t help but let a small smile slip out this time. He raises his eyebrow at Donghyuck, _did you think I was going to say no?_

Donghyuck frowns slightly at the teasing— he knows it’s teasing, and turns back to the officiant.

_Lee Donghyuck, do you take Lee Jeno to be your husband?_

Donghyuck doesn’t look Jeno in the eyes when he says it. Jeno can’t help but feel a little bit disappointed.

“I do.”

_Lee Jeno and Lee Donghyuck will now exchange rings as a symbol of love and commitment to each other. Rings are a precious metal; they are also made precious by you wearing them. This will mark the beginning of your long journey together. A circle, a symbol of never ending love. These rings seal the vows you have just taken._

He wasn’t able to untangle Donghyuck’s fingers and rub his thumb on his knuckles, but this time, instead, he’s slipping the gold ring onto Donghyuck’s left ring finger. After Donghyuck does the same, Jeno slips his hand into the other’s and doesn’t let go.

Doesn’t let go when he reaches over and seals the deal with a light kiss that barely ghosts over each other’s lips— a kiss that’s uncomfortable on both ends, but necessary nonetheless. Doesn’t let go when they turn to the large crowd in the hall that’s watching them with curiosity, doesn’t let go when the crowd cheers, and he feels Jisung’s hand clapping him on his back behind him,doesn’t let go when they bow to their parents in the front row, doesn’t let go when they turn and give a slight smile to the camera that’s been filming everything hours before they even arrived.

_By the power of your love and commitment, and the power vested in me, I now pronounce you, Lee Jeno, and you, Lee Donghyuck, as husbands._

_____

Going home is a quiet affair.

 _Home._ The word feels weird on Jeno’s tongue, and he spends a couple of minutes in the back of the limo mouthing the word to himself quietly. As if saying it enough will make it easier for him to comprehend.

He chances a glance at Donghyuck on the left side of him, and finds the other staring outside the tinted windows quietly. He’s folded into himself and pressed up against the doors, his suit cinching in the crevices of himself.

Like he’s scared to be so close to Jeno.

The word home feels funny on Jeno’s tongue.

It takes four gates, four security guard checkpoints, and one more security guard checkpoint in entrance of the underground parking garage for them to pull into the lot of the high rise apartment building they were moving into.

It was both his and Donghyuck’s first time being there— staff from each side had moved in their boxes of things for them already— and Jeno could tell the amount of security surrounding their community overwhelms Donghyuck.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno says when the limo is making its descent into the basement to park.

Donghyuck turns from looking out the window to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What for?”

It’s the first thing they’ve said to each other the whole night besides, _sorry for stepping on your shoe_ (Donghyuck to Jeno) at the reception.

(It’s not any of their faults, not really. They’ve had to entertain all night— friends, family, diplomats, and hundreds of other people Jeno can’t even remember anymore.

The only time they had to themselves was the first dance to _Salut D’amour_ where Donghyuck accidentally went triple-time in his steps instead of double-time halfway through the song.)

Jeno shrugs. “I insisted on moving out of the Royal Estate. Your home. And wanting an apartment only to ourselves. This,” he gestures his arms around him as the other tall skyscraper buildings in the community full of important people pass by in a blur around them. “This amount of security in the community is the only way my mother allowed it. So I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck stares at him, quietly and long enough that Jeno shifts in his seat uncomfortably, hearing the car leather twist from under him.

“We agreed to it together,” Donghyuck answers finally. “Remember?”

“I know. But I wanted it first. Insisted on it first.” It doesn’t seem like the right answer, “I was the one who suggested it,” he finally settles on.

Donghyuck shakes his head, “I’d rather live in our own apartment and have our own space, too. It’s at least the one thing we have control of.”

The last sentence pricks at something in him, but Jeno understands— it’s exactly why he had haggled with his mom for two months over this decision. “Okay.”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrow again, “Okay?”

Jeno nods, “Okay.”

Their apartment is at the top floor, the _penthouse_ , one that’s only accessible via fingerprints of approved people, and Jeno and Donghyuck both take turns pressing their thumb against the small glass square next to Emergency button in the elevator to make sure it works. It both works fine, and they spend the elevator ride up thirty-six floors in silence.

When they reach their floor and the elevator doors open, there’s only one red door that faces them. Two passcodes, and a fingerprint later, they’re opening the door to their new home. The first thing they both see are the piles and piles of boxes everywhere.

“It’s me, probably,” Donghyuck speaks up.

Jeno turns to look at him in surprise as he watches the other quietly sit on the ottoman near the entrance to untangle his shoelaces.

“I have a lot of things,” he admits.

Jeno should say something. Say something like, _actually, a lot of it is probably mine. i like to paint. a lot of those boxes are probably mine. do you want to see me paint one day?_

But then he remembers, remembers that Donghyuck wants them to stay out of each other’s way. He twists the gold band around his finger.

“Do you know where our rooms are?” he says instead. He easily slips out of his own shoes without having to undo the laces.

Donghyuck stares at him before nodding. He points to the hallway on their left. “Those rooms are all yours.”

Jeno turns to him in surprise after he settles his shoes by the front door on the side. “All of them?”

“Yeah, I figured it would be easier. You get this floor, I have the second floor,” Donghyuck says. “We each get an extra guest room and an office space along with our bedrooms. Is that… is that to your liking?”

“Thank you,” Jeno reaches up to scratch behind his neck.

Donghyuck shrugs, walking over past him to settle his shoes down next to Jeno’s. He turns towards Jeno, and for the first time that night he realises just how exhausted Donghyuck must be. His eyebags finally show through the makeup that has worn off throughout the night, and Jeno sees purple. Donghyuck’s whole demeanor had dimmed as the night went on. “I’m really tired. I’ll try to unpack everything tomorrow.”

“Okay, yeah. Me too.”

Jeno feels like the air in the apartment could suffocate them.

“Goodnight, Jeno.”

Donghyuck chances one more look at him, a blank look on his face, and starts to maneuver himself across the boxes and to the staircase on the right, heavily placing his hand on the railings as his socked feet make small sounds against the hardwood floor.

“Night,” Jeno echoes beats later, but Donghyuck’s already long gone.

He feels silly, standing there for a few moments after Donghyuck’s gone upstairs. In his _wedding suit,_ a day gone by that genuinely doesn’t feel real.

He remembers standing in his powder room moments before his wedding earlier in the morning, staring at his reflection trying to convince himself that none of this was a big deal. His mother had tried to comfort him with soothing _thank-you_ ’s _,_ and quiet _you’re doing something wonderful, jeno’_ s, while his dad had grunted and told him that he was _lucky_ , he had everything easy.

_Your brother is going to be the next king, he’s the one with the most to sacrifice. This is all you have to do. This is all you’ve ever had to do. You’re lucky, Jeno. You’re the lucky one out of the two of you. Don’t ever forget that._

Maybe he was. But standing there in his new home, in a new place he had never lived before, the unknown skyline staring back at him through the floor-to-ceiling windows— he doesn’t feel lucky.

He feels lonely.

_____

The thing is.

 _The thing is,_ Jeno _knows._

Knows that Donghyuck is beautiful in a way that’s undeniable to anyone. Knows it from the pictures he sees on the internet search engine main page, knows it from the tabloids he sees at his _dentist’s_ _office_ , knows it from the constant whispers around the grape vine.

Knew it from the minute he walked into the cafe at midday and his eyes immediately flitted towards Donghyuck sitting relaxed in a small booth in the back corner. Knew it in the way Donghyuck has his black cap on, black mask covering half his face, and hoodie pulled over his head.

And yet, still.

_Still._

Still he was beautiful— Jeno knew. Knew it in the way his breath caught in his throat and he had to convince himself it’s his lungs adjusting from the cold air outside to the warm one in the cafe that smells faintly like warmed croissants.

For a split second, Jeno entertained the idea of this. The idea of this all working out.

And then he was striding across the cafe, sliding in the booth opposite of Donghyuck. Donghyuck looked up from his phone that he’s scrolling through.

 _Click._ Donghyuck’s phone clicks off.

The first look Jeno sees on the man he’s going to marry is one filled with judgement. He knows in that moment he’ll never forget it.

They stare at each other like that for a moment, Donghyuck with his raised eyebrow and hardened eyes, and Jeno— Jeno’s forced neutrality that he’s practiced since he was ten and in the public eye.

“Hi,” Donghyuck says finally, leaning back against the booth and clasping his hands in front of him.

“Hello,” Jeno responds in the same tone. He nods towards Donghyuck in acknowledgement. He adds, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Surprisingly, the tension that sits heavily on Donghyuck’s shoulders drop, and he lets out a large laugh in return that has Jeno widening his eyes. Donghyuck laughs, loud but light, pulling his mask down slightly to gasp for air.

Through his laughter, he asks, “Is it?”

Jeno doesn’t respond to that, instead, smiles. He shrugs and picks at a piece of thread at the hem of his sweater under the table. It’s a terrible habit, and his mom constantly berates him for it.

“I can’t say it’s the same,” Donghyuck says, honestly bleeding into his voice. He smiles still, though.

“No?”

Donghyuck shrugs in return. It’s Jeno’s turn to raise his eyebrow.

Donghyuck looks at him carefully, like he’s studying every crevice in Jeno’s face, looking to see if Jeno could handle what he’ll say next. Jeno guesses the verdict is okay, because Donghyuck’s eyes flit back to meet his, and—

“I see you,” Donghyuck says finally. “And I am reminded of the failure my family and my people think I am without someone ruling next to me.”

Brutally honest. It would hurt, but Jeno hadn’t wanted any of this either.

“I didn’t want this— want any of this, either,” Jeno clarifies. One honest secret for another, he thinks. So Jeno adds, “I wanted to pick who I fell in love with.”

Donghyuck scoffs.

Jeno frowns, “Is that supposed to mean something?”

Donghyuck shrugs again and leans forward in his seat. His voice still stays light, but he says, “Maybe. Maybe this is all that this is to you. Losing your choice to pick who you fall in love with. But you wouldn’t know what else this means. Wouldn’t know how it feels like to be forced into this because no one think you can be a ruler without another. Failing before you’ve even started.”

And if that wasn’t enough, Donghyuck is sure to hold eye contact with him as he adds, “You weren’t ever going to get your throne anyway.”

It stings, somewhere in Jeno’s chest, even if it shouldn’t have. Jeno was the second child— he was never destined to rule anything. Truth be told, he’s never really had qualms about it— Doyoung is going to be a great ruler, and it’s something that’s been ingrained in him; something Jeno doesn’t. But still. The way Donghyuck says it— it stings.

He doesn’t know what else to say so he says, “You’re not the only one with something to lose.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” Donghyuck sighs, and all contempt that was aimed at Jeno only moments before disperses into the air. Donghyuck taps the table in front of him. “Look. You’ve already tried to stop this, no?”

Jeno’s facial expression twists. He contemplates playing the welcoming and hopeful husband-to-be, but something tells him Donghyuck doesn’t care about any of that. Would it be so bad to admit to his doings?

Donghyuck lets out a slight laugh. “I have too,” he admits, removing his cap to run a hand through his hair.“Far much longer than you probably have.”

Jeno raises his eyebrow.

“If it wasn’t going to be you, it was going to be another prince.”

“Well. I can’t say I’m not hurt,” slips out of Jeno’s mouth before he realises. Jeno’s eyes widen and he almost apologises for the drop in formality, but then Donghyuck snorts.

The air around them feels clearer than the tension that built in their conversation only a few seconds.

“Was I at least your first choice?”

This time, a loud guffaw erupts from Donghyuck and Jeno can’t help but be a little pleased he managed to elicit such a reaction from someone who seems to dislike his guts. He shifts around in the booth, old wood creaking from under him. He eyes the cup of green tea next to Donghyuck’s phone across from him, and he wishes he got something to drink to relax him.

Jeno always has been too optimistic.

“You were,” Donghyuck accepts Jeno’s teasing. Jeno’s smile grows. “Or, you were my parents’ first choice. Same thing.”

Jeno frowns, “No, it isn’t?”

“It isn’t,” Donghyuck agrees. “I didn’t really have a choice. As do all things apparently go around here.”

“It’s a shame.”

“I’d like to think you would be, though. My first choice. If I was given the chance to have at least that.”

“Oh?”

Donghyuck snorts, “I didn’t invite you here to wax poetics about how you’re the most handsome of them all, Lee Jeno.”

Jeno tries not let a smug grin slip onto his face. “So?”

“So?” Donghyuck repeats, eyebrows furrowed.

“Why did you call me here?” Jeno clarifies. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’s nice to meet my future husb— my future— it’s nice to meet _you_ prior to everything. But, I was expecting more of a formal meeting around parents around maybe an additional round table of delegates. Not so much a hole-in-the-wall cafe that’s half-full of your security detail scattered around in different booths—“

“—And yours are scattered just outside all over the street,” Donghyuck counters.

Jeno pauses, and Donghyuck looks at him with a smug smile.

“Royalty, huh?” Jeno says finally. Donghyuck laughs again. Jeno hates that he finds the sound sickly sweet.

Donghyuck muses, “Always so high maintenance.”

Jeno chuckles and looks down at his finger tightened around the thread of string in his lap.

“Look,” Donghyuck says again, and Jeno looks up at him. “This is going to happen whether we like it or not. We’re going to be married in two months. I wanted to meet because I wanted to be honest with you.”

“You’ve been quite honest,” Jeno says lightly. He crosses his legs and his knee bumps against the table.

Donghyuck smiles, “I wanted to be honest with you,” he repeats. “ And tell you that I’ll stay out of your way.”

“Out of my way?”

Donghyuck nods, “And I hope in return you’ll stay out of mine.”

Jeno doesn’t know what it means. It must show in his face— his confusion because Donghyuck is leaning forward again a second later, a sense of defeat written in his eyes, sad smile on his face.

“I can’t do much about what people think of me,” he says sadly. “If I need someone by my side, if I need _you,_ by my side to become a ruler that my people will see fit, then I’ll deal. And I know you don’t want this either, but we’re in the same boat now. And I don’t want us to hate each other. Not if we’re going to be spending our whole lives together.”

Jeno knows that once this arrangement was fixed, it would be forever, but hearing it like this makes him shiver.

“I won’t get in your way. And I don’t want you to get in mine,” Donghyuck says. “I want an agreement. On how we’ll do this.”

“Agreement? Our parents— my mom said— they’ve already decided on an agreement on how—“

“No,” Donghyuck shakes his head. “Not like that. An agreement between us. How our marriage will work. It’s ours after all, isn’t it?”

 _Ours._ Sharing the rest of his life with someone he’s met a total of twenty minutes ago makes his chest feel heavy. _We have to make sacrifices in our life that will be so hard it will leave scars all over you forever. Sacrifices that no one realises we have to make. But you do it because you were born into this family for a reason. You do it because you carry our name,_ his mom had told him. Had ingrained into Jeno since he was old enough to understand. Every night, disguised as a bedtime story, but grew into a painful reminder.

Twenty-four years old, and sitting across from Donghyuck, is the first time Jeno fully understands what his mom meant.

“Okay,” Jeno agrees. “An agreement.”

“Well?” Jisung asks Jeno later that night, legs propped up against Jeno’s headboard while his back laid flat against Jeno’s comforter. His eyes were zeroed in some sort of Mario Kart-esque game on his phone. “How was it?”

Jeno shakes his wet hair through his towel and tilts his head left and right to make sure any droplets of water fall from his ears. By the time he had finished with his shower, Jisung was already in his bed making loud noises like whoever he was playing his phone games could actually hear him. Seriously, he needs to talk to someone about constantly letting Jisung in.

He smacks the towel against Jisung’s arm. “I told you to stop putting your ass on my pillows.”

Jisung sticks his tongue out but his eyes never move from his screen.

“How did you even get in here?” Jeno remarks, frowning as he sits on the edge of his bed and continues to shake his hair out. “I gave Hyunjin donuts to remove you from the _approved_ _people_ list. They were fancy donuts, too. _Five dollars each._ And I gave him a baker’s dozen!”

“That would’ve been a terribly good idea hyung, had I not counter-bribed him with tickets to see his favorite band in concert next month,” Jisung says smugly.

“ _What_? How do you even know his favorite band?”

“ _Hyung_ ,” Jisung says like its painstakingly obvious. “I am incredibly loved here. I’m friends with everyone!”

“Smooching off the Royal name,” Jeno mutters.

Jisung makes a noise, the game in his hands playing music to signal that it’s over, and he looks up at Jeno upside down with a grin. “And I seem to recall that it was _you_ , on live national television, saying _Park Jisung is my best friend in the whole world. I’ve known him since I was young. Of course he will be my best man—“_

“God, please do not remind me? I should have never offered you my extra lollipop in grade school? Look where we are now?”

“Hyung, we’re stuck together for life,” Jisung grins, and rolls over so he’s finally facing Jeno upright.

“What’s wrong with you. Why do you keep saying things like that. Please don’t threaten me like that,” Jeno mutters.

“ _For life.”_

“Seriously, stop threatening me? That is a national crime? _Threatening_ _the_ _crown_? With your presence? And _for life_? That is a _constant_ and _consistent_ threat?”

“I could probably find a way to get a reduced sentence,” Jisung hums. “I will simply plead: your honour, he is abandoning the kingdom for another, anyway.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Jeno says because he doesn’t have anything to say in response.

“Speaking of. You just completely managed to change the subject,” Jisung rolls his eyes. He shuts his phone off with a click, and rest his cheek on his propped up arm, staring at Jeno with wide eyes. “How was it? What did he want to say to you? How was he? Was he nice?”

“Would you like to know what he ate for lunch too?” Jeno asks sarcastically.

Jisung furrows his eyebrows, “You guys went to lunch together as well?”

Jeno rolls his eyes and leans over to flick Jisung’s forehead. The younger whines, and Jeno ignores his question.

“He was,” Jeno says instead, pausing to contemplate his next words. “It was interesting.”

“Interesting?” Jisung mutters. “What does that even mean.”

“He was nice enough.”

“What did he want?”

Jeno shrugs.

“I’m assuming he wasn’t wining and dining his future husband?” Jisung retorts with a lazy smile on his face.

Jeno lets out a chuckle. “Opposite. He told me we should stay out of each other’s way.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know,” Jeno confesses. “I told him it was fine and that we would stay out of each other’s way. I told him I wanted to have our own place to stay. Away from the Royal Palace. An apartment because a house would be too big for us.”

“He agreed to it?”

“Wasn’t hard to get him to agree,” Jeno falls back onto his comforter and stares at his ceiling. “I think he wanted it too, actually.”

“What else did he say?” Jisung asks, and he feels the other scoot closer to him, hand coming to find Jeno’s. Jisung always feels warm. It makes his shoulders relax.

"Nothing, that was it. There’s nothing much to ask for when you kind of have everything you’re supposed to want,” Jeno says quietly. “He said he would have someone start looking for a place. I said, _i’ll make sure to stay out of your way._ _it’s nice to meet you._ We went about our day.”

Jisung hums sympathetically, thumb rubbing against the back of Jeno’s hand in a comforting circle rotation. He’s quiet like he’s trying to find the right words to say. “You’ll be okay, hyung.”

“You’re going to have to wear a bow-tie for my wedding, Jisung,” Jeno says instead, but he grips Jisung’s hand tighter.

Jisung lets out a loud laugh. “God. I’m going to look like Stuart Little in a suit.”

_____

Jeno wakes to the sun in his face. He always leaves his curtains closed, though? He sits up slowly in his bed, scrunching his nose and rubbing his eyes in an attempt to try to remove any exhaustion on his face.

When he opens his eyes, he’s met with large windows and an unfamiliar room, his suit folded neatly on a chair in the corner. Right.

Right, he’s not home anymore. Because he’s married now, with a husband, in a new place, a new home, a new room, with no curtains. He doesn’t have curtains.

He sighs.

He tries to open his phone that sits on the nightstand to check the time, but he had been too exhausted— drained from the long day and the emotional exhaustion of it all, that by the time he had reached his bed that he had forgotten to charge it. He’s met with a black screen. He groans again, fumbling with his eyes half open to plug his phone in, before he’s begrudgingly gets out of bed to go shower.

He feels so grimy.

He stands in the shower longer than he should. Scrubs away at his skin like it’s done something wrong. Jeno pretends like sound of the water hitting his skin doesn’t make him feel less lonely.

When he’s finished and changed, he checks his phone for the time and realises it’s nearing noon, and also that he has hundreds of messages waiting for him.

Most of them are from people he only vaguely knows, faint congratulations and well-wishes for a happy marriage. Jisung’s texted him too.

**pain in my ass (jisung)**

hyuuuuung  
i have to go back home pack up all my shit

**pain in my ass (jisung)**

you should come with me too  
help me pack my stuff >:)

Jeno moving to Donghyuck’s state meant Jisung deciding to move too. Jeno at first tried to tell him _it was okay, he didn’t have to,_ but Jisung had just swung his arm around Jeno and said, _don’t be foolish. of course i will. what else do i have to do?_

(Truth be told, Jeno didn’t put up much of a fight. He was grateful.

Even if he would never admit it to Jisung.)

**jeno**

I don’t think I can  
I have so many boxes I have to unpack

**pain in my ass (jisung)**

boo  
ok well have fun  
are you going to unpack together with ~your husband~?

**jeno**

Stop that

**pain in my ass (jisung)**

~YOUR HUSBAND~??????

**jeno**

(thumbs down)  
I’m not sure  
Haven’t seen him since last night

**pain in my ass (jisung)**

good luck

He sends one last thumbs up emoji to Jisung before he’s setting his phone aside. He should probably get started on unpacking everything. He’s never unpacked in his life before, he realises.

When he leaves his room, slippers dragging against the cold floor to meet the boxes waiting for him, he realises how quiet it is.

The apartment is different with the daytime light. It still makes Jeno feel empty and lonely, but this time, the sun is shining through the windows against the furniture brightly. Everything’s modest for the most part, but a long L-shaped couch opposite to the mounted TV and fireplace takes up most of the space. There’s a corner just for a grand piano to sit with a bookshelf full of what Jeno can only assume are sheet music.

Jeno had never played much instruments, that was Doyoung’s hobby. He was more good for rugby and lacrosse. He assumes that’s for Donghyuck then. Briefly, he wonders for a moment about asking Donghyuck to play something for him before he pushes the thought away.

He turns towards the boxes piled high on as many inches of the floor possible, ready to tackle the boxes labeled **JENO** when he notices a small piece of paper on the living room table.

He picks it up.

**_JENO_** ,

went out for a bit. sorry i’ll unpack later

—dh ^^

Jeno doesn’t know whether he’s sad that the apartment’s empty, or happy that he doesn’t feel like he has tiptoe around his own home while he goes to unpack his things. Rather than dwell on it, he folds the note, one neat and precise fold, and slips the note in his pocket.

He reaches for the first box labeled **JENO** closest to him and unfolds the top cardboard pieces. Blank canvases of different shapes sit, unopened and covered in plastic. Another box opened, and more canvases. He has so many art supplies. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought all of them. It’s not like there’s no art stores around here.

He sighs, and starts dragging the boxes towards the room that was supposed to be his office. He doesn’t need an office. He needs an art room, though.

He has many things to unpack.

_____

All things considered, not much has changed moving out of the only home he’s ever known and being married.

After Jisung manages to move all of his things into his new apartment that’s only a fifteen minute drive from Jeno’s, Jeno still hangs out with him almost every day, just like it always was. Jeno still paints most of the days, but more often than not he’s doing it in the confines of Jisung’s apartment if not locking himself in his own art room when Donghyuck’s not home.

“Hyung,” Jisung says one day, sprawled all over his couch while Jeno sits by his window, the designated part of Jisung’s apartment where he had set up some of his art supplies. He has his canvas propped up to his easel, painting a landscape. “Your apartment is infinitely cooler and nicer than mine, you know. Nice big windows to allow nicer sunlight.”

“I like it here well enough,” Jeno hums, mixing yellow and dark green together.

“ _Here_ is my apartment not yours.”

Jeno frowns, pausing to look back at Jisung. “Are you kicking me out?”

“Yes,” Jisung says with no bite to his tone.

“Don’t be mean.”

“You’re avoiding your husband.”

“Am not.”

“You’re avoiding Donghyuck.”

“Calling him Donghyuck instead of my husband won’t magically give you a different answer,” Jeno chastises.

“Why are you even avoiding him? You told me he’s rarely home anyway. Or at least he’s gone when you get up.”

“He isn’t,” Jeno sighs. He starts working on painting the yellowed leaves for his trees.

Donghyuck is always gone by the time Jeno wakes up. He always leaves a note, and Jeno folds it once, neatly, and tucks it into his drawer where all of Donghyuck’s other notes are. He never really sees Donghyuck either, because he makes sure to get home late.

“So?”

“He told me we need to stay out of each other’s way,” Jeno faltered. “I’m just— I told him I would.”

“I don’t think avoiding your own home is what he meant,” Jisung remarks.

“I don’t know.”

“Is he being mean to you?”

“ _What_? No,” Jeno says, turning to look at Jisung with brows furrowed. He sets his brush down in his cup of water. Donghyuck leaves him notes about where he’s off too. Donghyuck leaves him notes about leftover food he’s cooked in the fridge. Jeno’s never eaten them, but Donghyuck still continues to do it anyway. Jeno can’t imagine a world where Donghyuck is mean. “He’s— Donghyuck’s nice.”

“I’ve never seen you act like this.”

“I’m being _courteous.”_

“ _Courteous_ sure is a new word for afraid,” Jisung notes.

“I’m not _afraid!”_

“Well it sure seems lik—“

 _“_ I just don’t want to step on his toes!” Jeno interrupts. “I’m _married_ to him Jisung. It’s forever. I don’t want to— I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot. Not when we’re going to have to be around each other for forever.”

Jisung snaps his mouth shut, staring at Jeno with wide eyes. Jeno sighs and turns back to his canvas. Quietly, he removes his brush from his cup and pats it down against the rug on the table to wipe off excess water. He continues to paint.

“Hyung,” Jisung says quietly. “I know you’re trying to let him do his own thing, and you’ll do yours. But then it’s just a few weeks of discomfort, and then you’re just holding off for a few months so you don’t step on each other’s toes, and then it’s a year. And next thing you know, you’re sharing a house and a life with someone for thirty years and you don’t even know who they are. Is that something you really want?”

“No,” Jeno admits.

“I think you should talk to him,” Jisung says gently. “I don’t think you guys properly figured it out last time.”

“Maybe,” Jeno says finally. “I’ll see.”

“Good,” Jisung triumphs. “Besides, your TV is bigger and your couch is comfier. I want to hang out there.”

_____

One night after Jeno gets home, he finds Donghyuck sitting in the dining area, leg propped up in a folded manner on his seat as he scoops rice into his mouth, his iPad propped up next to him while he reads something.

“Hi,” Donghyuck greets, looking up from his screen when Jeno closes the front door behind him.

It’s the first time Jeno has seen him in almost a month. It’s his fault, really.

“Hello,” Jeno says in return. He contemplates for a moment while he takes off his shoes whether he should still get the cup of apple juice he was looking forward to drinking all day, but after he places his shoes by the door, he decides to get some anyway.

Donghyuck goes back to his reading, and Jeno shuffles through their refrigerator and tries not to feel too awkward in a space that’s supposed to be his, too.

“Dinner?” Donghyuck asks over his own bowl of fried rice. When Jeno turns and shuts the refrigerator door, Donghyuck points with the end of his spoon to the pan in the middle of the table with mored fried rice. “I’m not the best cook but it’s good enough.”

Jeno clutches the apple juice jug in his hand tighter, socked feet planted firmly against the cold marble floor as he stares at Donghyuck in surprise.

When Jeno doesn’t answer, Donghyuck looks back up to lock eyes with him.

“What?” Donghyuck asks, pursed lips and eyebrows furrowed.

Jeno shakes his head.

“It’s okay,” Jeno replies. “You don’t have to— I’ll just order somethi—“

“Jeno.”

Jeno stops his sentence.

“When I said that we should stay out of each other’s way, I didn’t mean avoiding each other like the plague,” Donghyuck says.

“Oh.”

A smile ghosts onto Donghyuck’s face. “Is that why?”

“Why what,” Jeno mumbles.

“Coming home late. Not coming out of your room,” Donghyuck shrugs, but the smile still sits on his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you eat here.”

“No. Maybe,” Jeno admits. He shifts uncomfortably in between each leg, the tips of his ears beginning to turn warm. He feels so embarrassed now.

“We can eat together,” Donghyuck says, a slight giggle. In his oversized t-shirt and red shorts, one leg folded and propped up onto the seat, Donghyuck looks so young. Not like the next ruler. “I’d like us to be friends.”

“Friends?”

“Do you not wan— I mean, if you would like that, too,” Donghyuck responds, voice softer.

“No!” Jeno says quickly, too quickly. Donghyuck’s face quirks into a small grin. “Friends. I’d like that, too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Jeno nods in response.

A beat, and then, “Well? Are you going to grab a bowl and come and eat some? It’s getting cold.”

“R-right,” Jeno stumbles over his words. His deathly grip on the apple juice loosens, and he turns back around to open the cabinet next to the fridge in search of a bowl.

But when he opens the cabinet, plates are there instead, stacked in different arrangements: round, square, fancier looking ones. He moves to the right to open the next cabinet. Small plates. _Small plates?_ Why are there so many of them.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know where half of our dishes are,” Donghyuck says behind him, a light teasing in the lilt of his voice.

“Of course I know where they are,” Jeno says. _How is he supposed to know where their dishes are when he’s barely in this kitchen?_ He moves one more cabinet over, praying to God that the bowls will be there.

God hears him, because sitting two cabinets over from the first cabinet he opened are rows and rows of bowls. “Do we need this much dinnerware?” he mutters more to himself. Thankfully, he knows where the spoons and forks lay as he’s actually used them in the small amount of times he would go into the kitchen. He opens the drawer and fishes out a spoon.

“Some are gifts,” Donghyuck says casually, mouth full of rice. “From the wedding. The rest are from our moms. Worried to the bone that we somehow won’t have enough surfaces to eat off of.”

His voice is amused, and Jeno laughs slightly in return. “Sounds like something my mom would do.”

Donghyuck hums.

“Would you like some apple juice?” Jeno asks, turning to Donghyuck from the counter.

“Sure.”

Jeno fishes out two tall glasses, filling them with apple juice before putting the jug away. And as for the most complicated thing he does that day, he manages to juggle the two glasses, his bowl, and his spoon to the round dinner table where Donghyuck continues eating.

Donghyuck watches with a grin while Jeno glides uncharacteristically slowly whilst balancing everything, but makes no effort to help. Once Jeno finally settles in front of the table and manages to slide everything onto the flat surface, Jeno sighs heavily in relief and Donghyuck laughs. He settles on the chair opposite of Donghyuck, and starts to scoop some rice into his bowl, trying to ignore the hint of a blush he knows is forming on his cheeks with Donghyuck’s focus settled onto him.

“I’m not that good of a cook but it’s good enough,” Donghyuck says again, when Jeno’s about to take a bite.

“Good enough entails… me not dying from this?” Jeno pauses, spoon mid-air, inches away from his mouth. He smiles so Donghyuck knows he’s teasing.

“ _That_ , I cannot promise you.”

Jeno shrugs, “Good enough for me.”

The thing he learns about Donghyuck tonight, is that he’s an absolute liar.

“Liar,” Jeno says, mouth full of fried garlic and rice, sausages and eggs mixed seamlessly in. “This is so delicious!”

Donghyuck laughs, “You must find everything delicious then.”

“Probably,” Jeno admits, scooping more rice onto his spoon. “Back home, when it would be the middle of the night, Jisung and I used to eat canned sausages on the floor of the kitchen. Didn’t want to wake up all the cooks and all. And neither of us can make anything besides a mean cup of Milo.”

“Jisung… that’s. He was your best man, right?”

Jeno pauses, realises they’ve never really properly been introduced, and nods. “Yeah. Park Jisung. He’s my best friend. I’ve known him since we were in grade school.”

Donghyuck hums, “Mine is Na Jaemin. He was my best man too.”

Jeno remembers Na Jaemin. Mostly because Donghyuck was so comfortable around him throughout the wedding reception— laughing and joking and even dancing with him at one point that it made Jeno’s insides twist. Not anything to do with Na Jaemin, not really, but mostly just because Jeno wished Donghyuck was that comfortable around him, too.

“I remember him.”

“Yeah, I’ve known him since grade school too. He’s the same age as us.”

Jeno nods and continues eating, averting his eyes down to his bowl.

“Jeno,” Donghyuck says after awhile. “Earlier…”

Jeno looks up from his bowl, and this time Donghyuck is resting his cheek on his palm with his elbow settled on the dining table. He’s looking at Jeno with a tilt of his head. Something in Jeno’s chest burns, and he looks away.

“Yeah?”

“When I said— when I wanted to, when I asked if we could stay out of each other’s way, I just— I just meant that. I don’t want us to cause problems for each other. But, I don’t want us to tiptoe around each other.”

“I wasn’t tiptoeing around you,” Jeno says, but they both look at each other like they know it’s a lie.

“We’re going to be together forever,” Donghyuck says. “Whether we like it or not. Be around each other forever. And I’d rather us do it as friends than whatever these last two months were. If that means… you said… You said you lost the choice to pick who you love. So if that’s still something you want. I meant what I said. And I won’t be in your way.”

What?

“What?” Jeno says, frowning.

“If you ever come across someone and fall in love with them, I won’t— I think as friends, it would be terrible if I didn’t let you love them in return, even if you wouldn’t be able to do it publicly. I just wanted to say if that’s something you want—“

“Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck stops.

“I don’t,” Jeno says slowly. “I don’t want that.”

Donghyuck looks at him, eyebrows furrowed. “But, you said…”

“Yeah,” Jeno shrugs. “But we’re married. And I don’t want to do something like that. I wouldn’t. Even if we’re,” he hesitates. “Even if we’re just friends, I wouldn’t ever want to— I don’t want to go back on our commitment. I don’t want that kind of arrangement.”

“It’s forever, Jeno,” Donghyuck says softly. “We’re going to be together forever.”

Jeno bites his lip. Shrugs. “If I wasn’t ready to give that up, I wouldn’t have married you anyway.”

Donghyuck doesn’t say anything for awhile, and they slowly begin to go back to eating again. Quiet scrapes of the metal spoon against porcelain.

And then, “Jeno?”

Jeno looks up to catch Donghyuck’s eyes searching his face again. “I wouldn’t have wanted that kind of arrangement between us either.”

The burning in his chest comes back, but Jeno pushes it away again in return for a small smile on his face.

“Thank you for telling me,” Jeno says.

Donghyuck looks at him with something unexplainable, something that leaves Jeno feels a bit overwhelmed. A bit like a sliver of hope. Donghyuck’s cheeks tinge a pale pink, and he looks down to scoop more fried rice in his mouth.

_____

When Jeno wakes up the next day, and sleepily fumbles into their living room, he finds a new note from Donghyuck.

This time it reads,

**_JENO,_ **

dinner together tonight?

—dh^^

Jeno smiles, folds the paper neatly, once and perfectly down the middle, and goes to tuck the note along with all the other notes Donghyuck has left for him in his desk drawer.

_____

Dinner becomes a routine. Jeno comes home earlier, usually early enough that he still catches Donghyuck in the kitchen cooking dinner. Donghyuck will smile and tell him to set up the table, and if dinner is still not done by the time he’s finished setting all the plates up, Donghyuck will enlist the little help Jeno can give in the kitchen.

Then they’ll settle in for dinner, and ask about each other’s day. Donghyuck is usually out with Jaemin, doing some things the Crown Prince has to do, or hanging out at the Conservatory. (Jeno still hasn’t asked Donghyuck to play something on the piano for him but maybe one day he’ll gather up the courage.) Jeno is usually hanging out with Jisung, exploring the new city around him, or actually staying home more often to paint.

(He still hasn’t let Jisung come over often and the younger whines about it all the time.)

Donghyuck will laugh, make some comment about how long Jeno will keep his art hostage from him, and Jeno has to forcibly ignore the way his chest tightens at the way Donghyuck looks at him. Does it by telling himself that he’s imagining it, imagining all of it, down to the way Donghyuck’s ankle will sometimes hook against Jeno’s, before letting go.

Some nights, they’re both too exhausted, and they’ll call for delivery instead. They argue and fight with rock paper scissors over who has to be the one to go all the way downstairs to meet the delivery man, and more often than not Jeno will go even if he’s the one that won— best two out of three.

(“But I’m the one who _cooks_ all the time, Jeno, can’t you be the one to grab the takeout,” Donghyuck will whine sweetly. “Can’t little, old, me catch a little break?”

Jeno will scoff, and say _You said that last time! I’m not falling for it this time._ but will still end up getting the takeout when the deliveryman buzzes that their food has arrived.)

Then they’ll sit in their living room floor this time, fried chicken and beer in between them on the table as they watch whatever drama is recommended to them on their Netflix. Donghyuck will laugh at whatever’s happening in the show and will lean into Jeno’s side while he does so, licking at his greasy fingers and stealing sips of Jeno’s beer when he thinks Jeno isn’t looking.

Jeno’s heart twists, but he doesn’t feel lonely anymore and their apartment doesn’t echo as much.

_____

The first time Donghyuck asks Jeno to eat dinner outside of their home, Jeno is hanging out with Jisung thirty minutes away from home in a tiny slightly upscale art store, looking through some new oil pants that just came on market.

**dh**

wanna eat dinner out tonight?  
this pasta place is really good  
[LOCATION SENT]

**jeno**

Yeah! Sure  
8pm?

**dh**

(thumbs up)  
need me to pick u up from home or are u good

**jeno**

I’m actually out right now  
Junmyeon is with me  
I can have him take me

Junmyeon has been his security-detail-turned-driver-sometimes since he was young. He’s only a few years older than Jeno, but when he teases Jeno about Donghyuck, Jeno grouchily calls him _uncle_ instead of hyung.

**dh**

ok  
see you:)

**jeno**

See you. :)

“Raincheck on dinner,” Jeno says after searching for Jisung through the aisles. He has the oil paints he wants clutched in his hand. “Find anything you liked?”

Jisung is staring at a box of those mini-house kits that you build out of different pieces of wood. He looks up from the box with stars in his eyes, “We should make this!”

“And where are you going to put that afterwards,” Jeno deadpans, but he holds out his hand anyway.

Jisung passes it to him with a grin, “Housewarming present. For the newlyweds.”

“Four months too late,” Jeno responds wrinkling his nose. They walk towards the cashier and smile at her kindly when she recognises them even through the masks they’re wearing.

“Do you guys need a bag?” the cashier asks, voice squeaking.

“No thanks,” Jisung responds, and turns to Jeno. “What’s this about canceling dinner plans?”

“Got new ones, Jisung-ah,” Jeno says.

“Ay,” Jisung bumps into Jeno’s side. “Ditching _me_ for someone else? They better be important.”

Jeno doesn’t say anything, simply slides his black card into the card reader, but Jeno thinks Jisung’s caught onto his warmed red ears because then Jisung is huffing out a laugh next to him.

“I get it,” Jisung says through his giggles. “Dinner night with your hot husband. I guess he is important.”

Jeno catches the cashier smiling while eavesdropping on their conversation, and he ducks his head in embarrassment when he accepts their items.

“Thank you,” he says in return while bowing his head slightly. When they’re turned away from her and her tinted red cheeks, he hisses to Jisung, “Stop that.”

“Why?” Jisung crows. “Hot date with your husband, this is something to celebrate don’t you think?”

“It’s not a _hot_ date,” Jeno mumbles. “We’re just going to get some pasta is all.”

“Oh,” Jisung says brightly. “So we’re _leaving_ the apartment during dinner this time.”

“You are _so,”_ Jeno grumbles, eyes narrowing. “Just _so…”_

Jisung doesn’t wait for Jeno to finish, simply laughs loudly when they step out onto the sidewalk.

“I’ll let you go onto your date then,” Jisung says, grin overtaking his whole entire face. “Invite me over to dinner next time.”

He waves the miniature house box set in his hand, yelling out a “thank you!” and then he’s off.

Jeno looks at Jisung’s retreating figure with a sigh before he turns the opposite direction and walks the two blocks where Junmyeon is waiting in the car.

“Hey,” Jeno says, climbing into the backseat with the paints still hastily in his arms.

“Where’s Jisung?” Junmyeon asks, through the rearview mirror. He’s starting the car and adjusting the music settings.

“Have different dinner plans tonight,” Jeno shrugs. He takes out his phone and shows Junmyeon his text exchange with Donghyuck. “Can you drop me off here, instead?”

Junmyeon takes one look at the sender, one look at Jeno and a smile slips onto his face. “Sure,” he says casually, but his voice still has a teasing lilt. “No problem at all.”

“ _Stop_ _that_ ,” Jeno whines. “Jisung’s teased me enough.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” Junmyeon says pulling out of the street parking with a grin on his face.

“I can hear your thoughts loud enough,” Jeno mutters.

_____

When Jeno arrives to the second floor restaurant, he’s ushered to a back corner where Donghyuck sits at a round table, head buried into his smartphone.

Donghyuck’s dressed in nice trousers and long coat, and though Jeno’s wearing nice enough trousers, he feels severely underdressed in his leather jacket.

“You look nice,” Donghyuck greets him as he slips into his seat. Jeno wishes the dimly lit atmosphere covers the tint on his cheeks.

“I’m underdressed,” he mumbles. “You look good, as you always do.”

Donghyuck looks pleased, but ignores the compliment to say, “I don’t think you can ever look underdressed with a face like that.”

For a brief moment, Jeno entertains the idea of not just him wearing his heart on his sleeve, but Donghyuck as well.

_____

The first time they hold hands, they’re waving at a crowd standing outside the Royal Estate and Donghyuck sweeps his hands into his, hand tightening firmly around Jeno’s as they smile brightly to the people waving to them in return.

Jeno makes a noise of surprise before he visibly relaxes under Donghyuck’s touch.

“Is this okay?” Donghyuck mumbles under his breath.

“Of course it is,” Jeno breathes out.

What he doesn’t say, _it’s more than okay. your hand fits perfectly in mine. it feels like i was always meant to hold you tightly._

Donghyuck doesn’t let go when they get inside and they’re roaming the halls by themselves, away from any onlookers. If anything, he holds on tighter, and Jeno feels like Donghyuck’s got an iron grip on his heart instead.

_____

And if Jeno doesn’t say anything when their hands start finding each other even in the comfort of their own home, no one watching, while laying down on the couch while they watch some television together, who’s going to call him out for it?

His growing heart?

_____

“You’re here,” Jeno says groggily, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. He shuffles into their kitchen at eleven in the morning and finds Donghyuck uncharacteristically making an omelette. Donghyuck’s in his usual over-sized t-shirt and shorts loungewear, fluffy slippers on his feet.

“I’m here,” Donghyuck confirms. He flips the omelette over.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in the morning,” Jeno notes, pouring himself a cup of water on the counter.

Donghyuck shrugs, “Don’t have anywhere to be today.”

Jeno raises his eyebrow. “You always have somewhere to be.”

Donghyuck huffs out a small laugh, turning to slide the omelette onto a plate. “Not today. Can you scoop out some rice for us?”

Jeno hums in return, going to pull out bowls and spoons and chopsticks for them. Six months was more than enough time for him to learn his way around the kitchen. He checks that the rice cooker is done before he’s scooping rice for both of them in a bowl, scooping more into Donghyuck’s (but no one is looking, anyways, right?).

Soon after, Donghyuck is sliding a plate of omelettes between them and a small plate of kimchi.

“Not the best cook—“

“—But it’s good enough,” Jeno finishes for him rolling his eyes. Donghyuck shoots him a grin. “Until when are you going to keep saying that?”

“It’s a disclaimer!” Donghyuck protests.

“You know I think all your food is delicious,” Jeno says, reaching over to put some of the omelette he’s cut onto Donghyuck’s bowl. Donghyuck smiles at him gratefully. Jeno looks down and lets his bangs cover his eyes, hoping they also cover the tinge of pink that he feels on his cheeks.

“You have to say that, you’re my husband.”

Sometimes Donghyuck says things like this. Jeno knows, in retrospect, that it doesn’t really mean anything. It’s not like what Donghyuck is saying anything untrue. But then he says it like it means _something_ , means something more than two people marrying for the sake of their nations, two people marrying because they have to. Says it like it means something to them personally— not Crown Prince Donghyuck and Prince Jeno, but means something to Donghyuck and Jeno. Just Donghyuck and Jeno.

Jeno bites his lips and smiles into his rice. “Husband or not this omelette is still delicious.”

“Jaemin makes a better one.”

“Will you just take a compliment,” Jeno deadpans, but there’s no bite in his tone and Donghyuck laughs.

“Okay, fine. Thank you,” Donghyuck relents. “Jaemin really does make a better one, though. We should have him over some time.”

 _We._ He doesn’t know when they started becoming a _we_ either. Jeno likes it anyway.

“That would be nice. I didn’t really get to talk to him at the wedding.”

“You could bring Jisung too! I haven’t properly met him either.”

“No, Jisung is a nuisance,” Jeno grouches.

Donghyuck teases, “I’ll tell him you said that.”

“That’s fine,” Jeno shrugs. “I tell it to his face every day.”

Donghyuck makes a _tsk_ noise, but doesn’t say anything else on the subject. “What does he do? I don’t really know much about him.”

“He’s not doing anything right now,” Jeno says. “He graduated university last year and he’s trying to figure out what he wants to do with his life. His mom was a big-time model back in the day and his dad used to be a politician, so. It’s not really a problem for him to be taking a gap year or two. He does some modeling stuff on the side when he’s up to it, but more often than not he’s just being a pain in my ass.”

“From what I remember from the wedding, he is handsome. Got the model look and all.”

“Not more handsome than me,” Jeno mumbles.

“Not more handsome than you,” Donghyuck agrees, huffing out a laugh.

“And Jaemin? What does he do?” Jeno asks, changing the subject, but the grin on his face can’t hide how pleased he feels.

“He’s studying to be a chef,” Donghyuck says.

Jeno looks up at him in surprise. “So he really is better at making omelettes than you…”

“Yes, I wasn’t kidding,” Donghyuck bemuses. “He is definitely better than me at cooking. Considering the fact that he’s an actual cook and all.”

“We should definitely have him over then,” Jeno decides. “And often.”

Donghyuck frowns, nudging Jeno’s foot under the table. “You said my food was delicious!”

“That was _before_ you told me Jaemin was an actual cook,” Jeno says innocently.

“No,” Donghyuck says crossly. “Jaemin’s not coming over anymore.”

“Oh come on,” Jeno smiles. “Even if I taste Jaemin’s food, you know I’ll always like yours the best.”

“You have to say that,” Donghyuck shoves kimchi into his mouth grumpily. “We’re stuck together forever.”

 _Forever_ used to sting like a prickle against Jeno’s skin. Now, it doesn’t hurt so bad. Instead, it feels like something that burns, burns, burns.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it,” Jeno grins.

(Jeno hasn’t decided if it’s a good type of burn.)

_____

Though the Royal Family has taken less to involving themselves into politics over the generations and have become more of a figure for the people, it doesn’t mean that they as members of the Crown don’t still have responsibilities.

It’s significantly less, considering they’re more visiting hospitals and waving to crowds, especially so because they’re still _princes_ and not the key figures that the people are looking towards, but nonetheless, responsibilities are responsibilities.

The first time they have to go to one of these schedules— a schedule where they have to meet with some kind of foreign dignitary— Donghyuck gathers up the courage to tell Jeno two weeks beforehand, a question full of _i’m sorrys,_ and _i’ll owe you,_ before Jeno had grabbed his hands and told him that, _it’s fine, you may be the Crown Prince, and this may be your home, but i’m a royal too, remember? i understand, and it’s fine._

Donghyuck had sighed with relief and apologised one more time before Jeno had threatened to drop kick him right then and there (“I’ll use the self-defense tricks I learned since I was four. Seriously, Hyuck, stop apologising,” Jeno had threatened with no bite).

This time, they’re traveling to a small countryside town to visit farmers who’ve had trouble because of the lack of rain throughout the whole season, and instead of dressing up in their usual suit-and-tie get up, they’re allowed to opt for more casual outerwear. As casual as a dress shirt and nice trousers can get anyway, but at least they’re allowed heavyset Doc Marten boots instead of dress shoes to fare against and dirt and mud.

It’s a two hour car ride away, and this time, Donghyuck and Jeno’s hands meet in the middle of the leather seats, pinkies intertwined with each other, even with no one looking.

When they arrive, most of the small town is gathered to greet them at the town square, all smiles and wide-eyed to have two people of such importance visit their small town.

Jeno feels brave today and holds onto Donghyuck’s hand tightly, tucking it into his own coat pocket as they go around and greet people.

When it’s time to visit the farmers, Jeno watches Donghyuck transform as he listens to their woes and assures them of the promise the Royal Family will make in supporting their small businesses.

People listen to Donghyuck with such ease and trust, stares at him with thoughts of how mighty fine Crown Prince Donghyuck has grown up to be.

Jeno looks at him and knows that Donghyuck, just Donghyuck, is something more wonderful than that.

_____

The first time Jeno hears Donghyuck play piano is on a Saturday afternoon. The tune is familiar, so after locking himself in his office-turned-art room all morning, he shuffles out of the room towards the living room, where Donghyuck has his back turned to him.

Jeno sees the grand piano’s lid opened for the first time, and the sunlight shines against the black surface and golden machinery on the inside of the body. Donghyuck is swaying along to the music, body slightly hunched as he moves along the melody. It’s a beautiful song, happy but melancholic at the same time. It’s unexplainable.

“This song was played at our wedding,” Jeno says after he finishes.

“ _Jesus fucking Christ!_ ” Donghyuck jumps at Jeno’s voice, and turns to him, one hand clutching his chest. “God, Jeno, I didn’t even know you were home.”

_Home._

It’s been eight months. But the nuances behind the word still makes his chest ache.

“Sorry,” Jeno says sheepishly. “I was painting in my room. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Donghyuck waves it off. “You were painting? Can I see?”

Jeno laughs. “Maybe one day.”

Donghyuck frowns but doesn’t press.

“So? That song,” Jeno says instead. “We danced to it together. Our first dance.”

Donghyuck nods. “Yeah, it was. It’s my favourite song to play.”

“It’s beautiful,” Jeno says, walking over to the piano. Donghyuck moves on the piano bench, and Jeno takes it as an invitation to sit down next to him. “It’s so sweet, but it makes me a bit sad.”

“It’s saccharine,” Donghyuck agrees. He presses down quietly on the opening notes. “I like it because I think how you interpret the song can easily change depending on who’s playing it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well. You can play it a bit faster, emphasize and play some notes a bit louder. That’s called changing the dynamics,” Donghyuck says, speeding up the song and growing louder with each note, leaning and swaying. “And it sounds a bit happy. Like a walk along the forest. Dancing and teasing, a bit of a push and pull.”

“Or,” Donghyuck pauses. His fingers significantly slow down and the notes get softer. “You can play it slower. Softer. And I think it sounds more melancholy.”

“I think the second one sounds a little bit like hope,” Jeno says quietly. “Maybe even if you shouldn’t have any. It still sounds like it anyway.”

Donghyuck hums, “I think so, too. The piece is called _Salut D’Amour.”_

 _“Salut D’Amour,”_ Jeno repeats, practicing it on his tongue.

“It means love greeting or love letter,” Donghyuck says. His thighs on the piano bench press against Jeno’s tighter. “They would write these lyric poems back then. From one lover to another.”

“Oh,” Jeno says. “Play it for me again?”

And he does.

_____

They do finally get around to inviting both Jisung and Jaemin over for dinner. Jisung is over the moon, mumbling something about the huge wide screen television they have, and Donghyuck tells Jeno that Jaemin’s excited to finally meet Jeno properly.

Jeno doesn’t mention to Donghyuck that he’s more nervous meeting Jaemin than he was meeting Donghyuck’s parents, the King and the Queen.

Jeno buys a table grill so they can eat and chat over samgyupsal and rice, and Donghyuck prepares some steamed egg for all of them.

Jaemin arrives with two heavy bags full of side dishes and a creme brulee dessert, and Jisung arrives with the completed miniature house.

It’s well built enough, albeit a bit lopsided, but Donghyuck takes it into his hands with a wide smile on his face and says, “Thanks for the housewarming present! It looks really cool.”

Jisung’s smile on his face grows and he sticks his tongue at Jeno as Donghyuck ushers him in and ruffles his hair, and Jeno cannot physically stop himself from rolling his eyes.

Donghyuck places the miniature house above their fireplace and sets to working on the steamed egg, while Jisung and Jeno work together to set up the table and ready the grill.

Jaemin arrives and starts to unpack all the side dishes, enough to last Jeno and Donghyuck an extra month _at_ _least_ , and when he’s settled some onto small plates and placed them onto the table, he goes and argues with Donghyuck in the kitchen on how to prepare the steamed eggs.

“I may not be working in a Michelin-star restaurant like you Jaemin, but I know how to cook some steamed fucking eggs,” Donghyuck fumes from the kitchen.

“Well maybe do it properly then? See, look you put in too much sesame oil— _Hyuck_ , I said that’s _too_ _much_ —“ Jaemin screeches.

When they finally manage to get through cooking enough steamed egg for the four of them and they settle around the table to grill some samgyupsal, Jaemin takes the opportunity to share stories about Donghyuck which excites Jisung enough to do the same with Jeno.

Jeno learns that Donghyuck got suspended in private school when they’re fourteen for pulling pranks on the class president, and Donghyuck finds out that Jeno was respectively the class president in his own school.

Donghyuck laughs and says, “We weren’t meant to be.” but he throws Jeno a look like he could never mean it, and hooks his ankle with Jeno’s underneath the table.

Jeno feels lighter, and thinks that maybe, in some cruel twist of fate, they actually were.

_____

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck apologises one night while they’re halfway through a drama they’re watching on Netflix.

It’s takeout tonight, and they managed to devour one large sweet potato pizza and two bottles of coke each before they were sprawling themselves out onto their too-big couch to try to catch their breath.

Jeno turns to Donghyuck, and for a minute he feels almost breathless at how the television screen in the dark illuminates Donghyuck’s skin. Sometimes he looks at Donghyuck and finds himself back to the first time they met and he remembers how he felt the very first time he realised how beautiful Donghyuck is.

Then he reminds himself of everything they are now, and he buries his heart back into his chest.

He feels the side of Donghyuck’s pinky find his.

Donghyuck isn’t looking at him, not at first. “The first night,” he says. He tears his eyes away from the TV to glance at Jeno. “When we got married. I was being weird and avoiding you.”

Jeno lets a quiet laugh. “It’s been ten months, Hyuck.”

The other shrugs, “I’m sorry it took me this long to say sorry.”

“I don’t think you have to apologise for anything,” Jeno says.

A beat, and then, “I don’t know. I think we both could have used someone to talk to that night.”

“Yeah,” Jeno agrees, tightening his pinky around Donghyuck’s. “Maybe.”

_____

Donghyuck still writes Jeno notes in the morning when he leaves to go do something, but now instead of simple and straight forward notes they look a bit something like,

**_JENO (^~^)_ **

going out. got some crown prince duties T__T  
was thinking of making kimchi jjigae 2nite.  
wat ya think?  
see u l8r g8r

p.s there is some bacon on the table

At the bottom of the note is a badly drawn gator with a speech bubble that says “see you l8r!” on the inside. And instead of where “crown” would be, Donghyuck drew an actual crown.

Jeno folds his the note as he always does, once, neatly in the middle, and slips it into his pocket.

He wonders if Donghyuck knows he takes a piece of Jeno’s heart with him every time he walks out the door and leaves a note.

_____

The first art piece of Jeno’s that Donghyuck ever sees is one that Jeno finally gifts to Donghyuck.

“Hyuck?”

“Hm?” Donghyuck says one afternoon, looking up from his spot on the living room floor, papers strewn all over the flat surface.

“I have— I want to—,” Jeno fumbles over his words. “I want to give you something.”

“What is it?” Donghyuck asks, brows furrowed, peering behind Jeno to try to catch a look at what Jeno’s holding behind him.

He’s clutching the canvas behind his back, tightly, and he feels the rough surface of the dried oils against his fingers.

He walks over to Donghyuck, sits lightly on the edge of the couch, and brings the canvas to the front.

“For you,” Jeno says softly.

Donghyuck’s breath visibly catches in his throat, “Oh,” he says lightly. “Oh, Jeno, it’s so _pretty_.”

Jeno’s landscapes have always been inspired by impressionism art, and this isn’t much different. Greens and yellows and purples, sunlight through the trees. Thin visible strokes to depict a forest.

“Like dancing in a forest,” Donghyuck says in quiet amazement. He touches the surface of the painting lightly with his hands, grazing softly against the sunlight on canvas. His wedding ring glints against the sunlight that falls through their own window.

“It’s called _Salut D’Amour,”_ Jeno tells him.

_____

Sometimes, Jeno will be out with Junmyeon, mask pulled up and cap over his head and he’ll spot a magazine— on a newsstand, or in line at the store, and he’ll see Donghyuck and himself on the front cover from days they decide to go out and do things together. Not because they have to, but because they want to.

Lunch at a diner style restaurant, walks in the park, one time when Jaemin, Jisung, Donghyuck and him all decided to go play mini golf together.

Jeno sees this magazine and sees his reflection staring at Donghyuck like he’s the only person in the world that matters, and Jeno stiffly wonders if anyone else sees it in his eyes too.

(Junmyeon catches him staring at these magazine covers sometimes. He’ll give Jeno a knowing smirk but doesn’t say anything, and Jeno wonders if Donghyuck’s the only person in the world who doesn’t see it.)

_____

One Sunday, Donghyuck is playing on the grand piano, fumbling with the keys, composing his own melody. A melody he’s promised to gift to Jeno with a teasing grin on his face.

He’s managed to convince Jeno to drag his easel and canvas out to the living room, and while Donghyuck scribbles all over his sheet music, Jeno is twenty feet away from him by the windows, painting something for Donghyuck (“Paint something for me,” Donghyuck insisted, beaming. “In exchange for the live music and all.”)

“Sometimes,” Donghyuck says against the quiet fumbling of his fingers along the piano keys. “Sometimes, forever doesn’t seem far too long anymore.”

“No?” Jeno pauses to turn to look at Donghyuck.

Donghyuck is staring down at the keys with an unreadable expression on his face. He gives a slow shrug.

“Sometimes, I fear that it might even be too short,” Donghyuck confesses.

Jeno feels like his chest might burn too hot. The faraway look in Donghyuck’s eyes makes Jeno feel like anything in this world could happen at this moment.

“Doyoung used to tell me that when you start to feel something like that, it means you’re scared of missing something good for you,” Jeno says.

Donghyuck abruptly stops pressing on the keys, and looks at Jeno over the lid of the grand piano.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck replies. “Yeah, I think I am.”

_____

Jeno’s drawer of Donghyuck’s notes grows into two drawers before he finally buys a medium sized cardboard box to slip under his bed to keep them all in, neat stacks and folds.

Jeno loses track of how many paintings he’s given to Donghyuck.

_____

“You’re moping,” Jisung says one day, mouth full of food over spicy rice cakes they’re eating in Jisung’s apartment.

“Am not,” Jeno sulks, clearly moping. He shoves half a hard boiled egg into his mouth and chews slowly.

Jisung looks at him with a raised eyebrow before he shrugs and continues to watch the variety show they’re watching on screen.

Jeno sighs again, quieter this time, and moves the rice cakes in his plate around.

“Right,” Jisung says after awhile, rolling his eyes. “You are ruining _the vibes,_ because you are _clearly_ moping.”

“I’m not moping!” Jeno says. He mumbles, “I’m _sulking.”_

Jisung makes an affronted noise. “Right. So is this a Donghyuck problem or a regular problem?”

“ _Donghyuck_ _problem_ ,” Jeno repeats, scandalised. “Why does he get his own category of problems.”

“Because,” Jisung explains. “The only problems you seem to be having these days are Donghyuck problems.”

“They’re not…” Jeno mumbles. “ _Donghyuck_ problems.”

“I’m-helplessly-in-love-with-my-husband-and-I’m-making-it-a-problem-for-no-reason problems.”

Jeno kicks Jisung under the table.

“Ow!”

“You are terribly mean and evil,” Jeno deadpans.

“Well am I wrong,” Jisung mutters. “You’re going to _sit there,_ and tell me that I’m _wrong._ ”

“It’s not a Donghyuck problem,” Jeno says instead, sighing. “It’s a _me_ problem.”

Jisung sighs, “Why don’t you just tell him? It seems like _you’re_ waiting for _him_ to say something. Why don’t you say something?”

Jisung has always been able to read him like a book— ever since they were younger.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Jisung frowns.

“Because.”

“Jeno,” Jisung says firmly. “I know you guys are more complicated than that, but… you’re wondering whether or not you should tell your husband of over a _year_ , that you’re in love with him.”

“Donghyuck and I have always been a bit backwards,” Jeno shakes his head.

“It still doesn’t change anything. Maybe I would understand if it seemed like he wasn’t one hundred percent invested in you guys as you are, but he is. I know he is.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Jeno repeats. “I don’t think falling in love with him was me staying out of his way.”

“We’re back to that?” Jisung sips at his cider. “If I’m being honest, I don’t think you guys have been staying out of each other’s way for a long time.”

No. Jeno doesn’t think so either.

“I was so against this,” Jeno breathes out a slight laugh, leaning his cheek against the palm of his hand. “Against being _betrothed_ to anyone. And now look at me. I’ve fallen in love.”

Jisung hums in return.

“If it helps any,” Jisung says, picking up a piece of meat and dropping it into Jeno’s bowl. “I look at Donghyuck and see the same thing I see in you.”

“Pitifulness?” Jeno mumbles.

Jisung huffs out a laugh, “Someone with something to admit but is too scared to.”

_____

Sometimes, when he catches Donghyuck in the mornings before he has to leave, Donghyuck will give him a hug and draw the initials of _G.B_ (goodbye) on Jeno’s back.

Sometimes, Donghyuck will tiptoe to give Jeno a light kiss on the highs of his cheeks, so light Jeno will have missed it if Jeno wasn’t so hyperaware of everything to do with Donghyuck.

Those days are his favourite, and what is it to anyone if he tries to get up earlier than he usually does, just to catch Donghyuck by the door.

_____

His mom calls him at least once a week and Jeno will update her on little things happening in his life and she’ll tell him of all the tales back home. He thinks she still feels guilty, too long and too late, because sometimes she’ll say things like,

“I miss you too much,” a type of raw honesty in her voice that he thinks only age can bring. “The Royal name is much too heavy a burden sometimes.”

“I miss you too, Mom,” he’ll say instead. “How is Doyoung? Is he okay?”

“Still arguing with your Dad,” she will say. “He wants to run the nation differently than how your Dad runs it.”

“Does he?” he’ll huff out a laugh, but he’s not surprised. Not really. Doyoung has every quality he’s always desired. Strong-willed. Not afraid to go after what he wants.

“Yes,” pride bleeds into his mother’s voice. “I think he will make a fine king.”

_____

Jeno comes home with a new copy of ELLE magazine where Jisung sits on the front cover, and Donghyuck looks at it in his hands with a proud grin on his face.

“I feel like a proud father,” Donghyuck crows, making grabby hands at the magazine.

Jeno hands it over with a laugh, and Donghyuck starts flipping to the dedicated eight page spread they did on him.

“ _If Youth Had A Face,”_ Donghyuck reads aloud with a giggle. “Odd title, but Jisung’s working it.”

“He is,” Jeno agrees, and shuffles into the kitchen to grab a cup of water.

“Jeno,” Donghyuck calls. “Jisung is _so handsome!”_

Jeno goes to stand against the wall in the kitchen and looks at Donghyuck with a grin on his face, bringing the cup to his lips.

“Not more handsome than me,” he says, cheekily.

“Oh, I think many people would disagree with that,” Donghyuck says absentmindedly, flipping through the crisp pages.

Jeno frowns. “Hey.”

Donghyuck looks up at him from the couch with a smile on his face. “It’s okay. What matters is what I think. And I think you’re the most handsome of them all.”

Jeno’s heart aches like a heavy ton weight, and he realises the word _home_ no longer feels funny on his tongue.

_____

It’s all simple when it really comes down to it.

The heavy ache in Jeno’s chest, the heart on his sleeve, the way Donghyuck looks against the moonlight that goes through their windows.

Them sitting on the couch together, a show they’re barely paying attention to on low volume, Donghyuck saying,

“Jeno.”

Jeno hums.

“I have something to say.”

“Yeah?” Jeno responds, and he lowers the volume of the television even more.

Donghyuck doesn’t say anything for awhile. Jeno doesn’t mind. He sits and waits with his eyes trained on his ring finger.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” Donghyuck admits after a few minutes. “To admit that I’m in love with my husband.”

Jeno eyes shoot up to meet Donghyuck’s. Donghyuck is already staring at him.

“You— what?”

“Ever since I was younger,” Donghyuck continues. “You’ve been looming over me like a painful reminder. Even before we were even sure it was going to be you, really. Just the _idea_ of you. I’m too prideful for my own being, I think.”

“I wanted to be friends,” Donghyuck lets out a loud laugh, and Jeno sees Donghyuck twist his wedding ring absentmindedly on his finger. “I told you to stay out of my way.”

Jeno chances a smile. “You did.”

“I did,” Donghyuck shakes his head. “I was terrible.”

“You were protecting yourself.”

“I was protecting myself,” Donghyuck agrees with a sigh.

“I wanted to choose who I fell in love with,” Jeno says, and Donghyuck looks up at him with glassy eyes and a bewildered look on his face. “Jokes on me, because I made a huge ruckus, when I was still able to choose who I fell in love with anyway.”

Donghyuck huffs out a chuckle, but he’s still looking at Jeno like he’s afraid. Jeno reaches over and puts his hand in Donghyuck’s. “I cried to Jaemin about how in love I am with my husband.”

“I _sulked_ about you to Jisung,” Jeno admits.

Donghyuck makes a noise in his throat, like he’s not sure whether to cry or laugh. “ _Sulked_?”

“He said it was _moping_ , I said it was _sulking_.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Jeno shrugs. “I wanted to stay out of your way.”

“Oh Jeno,” he says it like it hurts.

“Jisung said he doesn’t think we’ve been out of each other’s way for a long time,” Jeno recalls with a small smile on his face.

Donghyuck shakes his head, “I don’t think so either.”

“Can you blame me?” Jeno says, wistfully. “You write me notes with little doodles on them.”

Donghyuck laughs a little. His grip in Jeno’s hand tightens. “You paint me the whole world.”

Jeno thinks Donghyuck might be shaking a little. He asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Donghyuck doesn’t say anything just nods. Jeno moves a bit closer to him on the couch, leather squeaking from under them as he shifts his body. One hand lets go of Donghyuck’s to come and clutch at Donghyuck’s jaw.

Donghyuck’s skin is so soft, and his eyes are so kind. Jeno feels like something in his chest might break.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says, quieter, and leans closer, closer, closer.

In the end, Donghyuck’s the one that closes the centimeter apart between them. Jeno hesitates, like he can’t believe any of this is real, Donghyuck in front of him waiting to be kissed. Before he can even blink, Donghyuck is impatiently pressing his lips into Jeno, before Jeno finally comes to his senses and nudges Donghyuck’s mouth open with his tongue.

Donghyuck’s hands lets go of Jeno’s to clutch at Jeno’s neck and the other to tug at his hair.

He kisses Jeno slow and careful, like one and a half years worth of yearning wasn’t enough and he has to savor Jeno as much as he can.

Jeno knows the feeling all too well, he feels it in his chest every time he looks at Donghyuck.

Jeno is tired of waiting. He presses further into Donghyuck, runs his hands along Donghyuck’s sides like he can’t get enough, and scoops Donghyuck’s waist in his arms. Bites at Donghyuck’s lips lightly.

Donghyuck gasps against his mouth, eyes fluttering open to stare at Jeno in surprise.

“Is this…” Jeno asks. “Is this okay?”

Donghyuck smiles against his lips. “It’s more than okay.”

It’s a mess of limbs, trying to stumble into Jeno’s room.

They’re all uneven steps and pauses against the hallway wall, Jeno pulling against Donghyuck’s lips and Donghyuck licking the roof of Jeno’s mouth. Jeno learns that Donghyuck likes to pull, pull, pull— pull Jeno’s hair through his fingers and pull Jeno’s shirts off over his head in a quick haste.

It’s quick and desperate, right until Jeno’s pressing Donghyuck into the soft comforts of his bed, and they’re back to slow and careful, like forever is enough.

_____

Jeno wakes the next morning to the sun in his face. It feels a bit like déjà vu.

Except this time, Donghyuck is lying next to him, curled up into a ball, head small against the pillows. His light brown hair falls soft against his forehead.

Jeno reaches out to move Donghyuck’s hair from his eyes, but hesitates in the last moment, dropping his hand in between them instead.

He doesn’t stop himself from staring, though.

“You can touch, you know,” Donghyuck murmurs sleepily.

When Jeno doesn’t respond, eyes wide and too surprised to answer, Donghyuck opens his eyes with a lazy smile on his face.

“Good morning,” he mumbles.

“Did I wake you?”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Was already awake. Just resting my eyes.”

“Go back to sleep,” Jeno replies. “It’s still early.”

Donghyuck hums for a moment, as if contemplating, before leaning forward and reaching up with his hands to place them on Jeno’s cheek. Jeno feels Donghyuck’s thumb, rough and calloused from playing piano, rub against the mole by his eye.

Jeno can’t help himself— he smiles into Donghyuck’s palm, akin to a cat purring into an owner’s palm. He places a kiss on the corner of Donghyuck’s wrist.

Donghyuck drops his arm in exchange for scooting towards Jeno, whole body moving to nudge itself into Jeno’s arms. Jeno’s makes way easily, widening his arms enough before he’s closing them around Donghyuck. He feels Donghyuck’s heart beat so loudly it feels like it might fall out of his chest. He thinks his heart is not that much different.

“Okay,” Donghyuck says groggily. “Let’s sleep.”

_____

Donghyuck still writes Jeno notes, and Jeno still paints Donghyuck landscapes, except now Donghyuck makes sure to kiss Jeno goodbye before he leaves, and all of Jeno’s paintings for Donghyuck are displayed openly around their home.

Donghyuck’s notes are less for telling Jeno he’s leaving, and more post-it notes around the house with doodles that say “remember to get milk (?)” and a drawing of a milk carton at the bottom. Their bathroom mirror has post-it notes that say things like, “yuck reminder that this brand of toothpaste SUX (thumbs down)”.

Jeno still keeps them folded neatly, one crease down the middle in his cardboard box, except now the cardboard box sits in their living room, easy access to drop all the notes in when he walks by.

Donghyuck moves into Jeno’s room because it’s closer to their kitchen, living room and everything else, and when they’re moving boxes up and down the stairs, Donghyuck whines and confesses that he regretted giving Jeno the first floor, because he really fucking _hates_ stairs.

They do their laundry together now, big piles of dark washes and light washes together, and when they fold things and put them away in their closet, they always forget to separate their clothes. Donghyuck will wear Jeno’s too big t-shirts by accident because of this.

Not much has changed, not really, but now Jeno can look at Donghyuck when he does this and call him beautiful, heart on his sleeve with nothing to hide, and Donghyuck will respond with a wide grin, and a “ _Come_ _here_ , _baby_.” before he’s licking into Donghyuck’s mouth.

His mom still calls him every week, except now Donghyuck makes sure to greet her as well with a wide smile on his face when she does.

She still says,

“Jeno, I miss you too much and I’m sorry,” but the words don’t feel heavy on her tongue anymore, and Jeno makes sure to make a promise that he will visit her.

“Will Donghyuck come too?” she’ll ask innocently, but a smile sits on her face like a heavy weight has been lifted off of her.

“I think he will,” Jeno says, and that’s that.

_____

Donghyuck finally finishes the composition for Jeno he started long ago, and he calls this one, _A Moment Apart._

It feels a bit like a forever, and when Jeno asks him about it, Donghyuck shrugs and says, “I’m not too worried about forevers anymore.”

**Author's Note:**

> [salut d'amour](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KF-3QOebX4Y&ab_channel=MusicScores15)  
>    
>  [the song donghyuck composes for jeno (a moment apart)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8NsG7TECGj0&ab_channel=ZRMusicOAC)
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/excessiveIy) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/haecns)   
> 


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